Sitting comfortably? Faggy has a lovely Lady Di story to tell…
It’s ten years since Lady Di off-of Royals drove into a wall and we all cried real life tears. ‘Mummy, where were you when you had the news?’ is one of those questions I’ll surely have to cope with should I ever decide to give up my fabulous life for a midget who takes money off me.
And dear reader, I believe children have to be able to ‘handle’ the truth, so here is what I would say.
‘Well, darling, snuggle up and I’ll tell you the story. Once upon a time Mummy was in an after-hours drinking club in Shoreditch before it got filled up with fashion cunts, and was actually filled with yardies. “I need the loo” said Mummy to one of her nice magazine friends as the clock turned to 3am. “Do excuse me”. As Mummy walked into a cubicle and shut the door she smelt a very funny smell! Yuk! There, smeared over practically every square inch of the cubicle was human shit! At least a whole inch deep. It was, my darling, like a special magic shit carpet Mummy was standing on! Suddenly Mummy heard a male noise from outside yell, “Oiii! Di’s dead – and Dodi n’ all! Faaaaakin’ hell!” And then I got a murder cab home, narrowly avoiding rape. And then everyone lived happily ever after. Except for Lady Di who was dead. The End!’